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Augusta Webster (Августа Вебстер)


Safe


Wild wintry wind, storm through the night,
        Dash the black clouds against the sky,
Hiss through the billows seething white,
        Fling the rock-surf in spray on high.

Hurl the high seas on harbour bars,
        Madden them with thy havoc-shriek
Against the crimson beacon-stars —
        Thy rage no more can make me weak.

The ship rides safely in the bay,
      The ship that held my hope in her —
Whirl on, wild wind, in thy wild fray,
      We hear our whispers through the stir.



Augusta Webster's other poems:
  1. My Loss
  2. The Pine
  3. An Inventor
  4. Joy That's Half Too Keen, and True
  5. Deserted


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